Stop and Breathe

So hey. Hi. Hello. It’s sort of been a long time since I just randomly posted on the blog. I’m not sure what’s going on with me– only that my creative process ebbs and flows. It’s feast or famine. I either have so much to say that I can’t write quickly enough, or I have nothing to say and feel certain that my career as a writer is over– and okay… so I do know what’s going on with me, and it’s that.

I’m in that scary writer spot of being certain that I have nothing else to say. I trust that I will… eventually. I have faith in my gift and in the One who gave it to me. But it can be nerve-wracking and terrifying to feel like you have to create.

When I felt like this in the past,  I didn’t talk about it. Instead, I procrastinated having to sit in front of a blank page. I may or may not have (may) retreated to my bed and let the pressure of feeling like I had nothing to say scare me away from saying anything, lest it not be witty and profound. (God that makes me sound like an a-hole.)  I binged on Netflix while feeling like a fraud– “Mwwwhahaha! I tricked the whole internet into believing I was a writer for a little while!!” I took a lot of naps. Last year I began a downward spiral into depression that wasn’t easy to recover from– that’s what the old me did– before the old me met Zoloft and began breathing again.

But Zoloft, therapy and some serious Jesus time helped me to realize that even if I didn’t have anything else to say, ever,  it wouldn’t be the end of the world. I had to stop trying so hard. At everything.

I had to breathe.

I had to learn how to do this. I wish I was kidding but I’ve spent 35 years wound tight as a spring and it took medication, therapy and a borderline unhealthy addiction to yoga to learn how to be in the moment.

“Breathe. Feel what you feel right now.” My yoga instructors say.

Well, CHIT– I feel scared. A little overwhelmed. A bit panicky. I don’t LIKE feeling like this.

Breathe.

I tell myself, “Let go. Inhale. Exhale. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. You are strong. You are lovely. You are loved. You are loved. Breathe. Feel what you feel and then let it go. Let go.”

Be who you are.

 

I am not just a writer. If I have nothing to write about it’s not worth crawling into the bed (she says to herself convincingly.)

I am a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister– my worth has nothing at all to do with what I can do. It’s okay just to be.

My Type-A-Ness doesn’t like this. My Type-A-Ness doesn’t naturally let anything go. I have to tell myself outloud,  “Let it go. Let it go, let it go, let it go.”

My Type-A-Ness makes me say, “Yes,” when I really mean, “NO. No, no and HELL to the no.”

My Type-A-Ness wants me to feel guilty when I quit something that is just one thing too many.

The New Me is learning to breathe through all of these things– to let it go.

I spoke to one of my favorite groups of moms in Hendersonville, TN a few weeks ago. Their theme for the month was, “Taking Care of You.” As in, “You Best Be Taking Care of Momma Cuz if She Ain’t Happy Ain’t Nobody Happy.” While I was getting ready to speak to my Boos up there I spent a lot of time thinking about what it is that keeps Mommas from being able to stop and breathe, to remember who we are in our innermost self. The self that existed before kids and will exist after kids. (Not that there IS such a thing as “after kids,” but after they are grown and gone.)

I kept reading Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Be still? They all scoffed– as did the women I polled online with the question, “What do you WANT to say when somebody tells you, as a Momma, ‘Don’t forget to take care of you!’?”

“Get. Real.”

“Obviously you have zero children.”

“What does that even mean????”

“Bite me.” 

“Ok, will you breastfeed for me while I do that?”

“I’m so frazzled lately, I’ve been praying for a cavity so I could at least get drilled in peace.”

“I laugh. I can’t find the time.” 

“Blank stare. Completely foreign concept around here.”

“Does showering on a semi-regular basis count?’

“I’m too exhausted, I don’t want to get up before 6am or stay up past 9pm to get it. “

“That phrase always makes me think of rappers so I wanna get all gangsta and say “Oh, ya best believe – Imma take care of me… you just take care of you homie.” 

 Our culture doesn’t encourage being still and my Type-A-Ness translates stillness as backward motion, ’cause if I’m not doing something then I’m not accomplishing ANYTHING, right?

Wrong.

I love Bible Gateway.com, because with just the click of your mouse you can read the same verses in several translations and it gives me clarity, I did my little mouse clicky thing with this verse and what I wrote down, what I need inscribed on my heart is this:

Be still– cease striving; step out of the traffic; stop fighting; CALM DOWN and learn that I am God. Ps 46:10

Stop and breathe. Calm down. LEARN that He is God. 

That’s what I’m doing. Everyday can be hard because The Old Me tells The New Me that it’s not enough just to clean up the messes that my kids have made and to break up fights and to wash the clothes as fast as they get them dirty.

But I’m learning. I’m breathing. Some days that’s going to mean watching Netflix and not feeling guilty about doing absolutely nothing.

But some days, like today, I’m going to force myself to do what’s uncomfortable. I’m going to sit in front of my computer and write about feelings I’d rather not think about but either way? It’s okay.

I am enough, and so are you.

Be still– cease striving; step out of the traffic; stop fighting; CALM DOWN and learn that I am God. Ps 46:10